


And in the end, I wasn't innocent

by EponineTheStrange (gallifreyandglowclouds)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 22 y/o Louis and 18 y/o Harry, M/M, the zerrie is really only there if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 20:15:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2038620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gallifreyandglowclouds/pseuds/EponineTheStrange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis and Harry are lifeguards. Cue lots of flirting and a little bit of pining.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And in the end, I wasn't innocent

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iamalwaysyours](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamalwaysyours/gifts).



> A few things...  
> \- I don't know about all of you but I am so there for 22 year old Louis just giving it to 18 year old Harry (must be the daddy hair)  
> \- This story takes place in Toronto, which might put some place names into context.

Louis is feeling pretty good about his first day as the lifeguard supervisor. He's confident in his staff - worked with most of them before during his tenure guarding for the City of Toronto, his pool, which has been his (well, he calls it his, even though someone at the Parks Department would probably kick his ass for saying or even thinking that) summer home since the tender age of sixteen, and he's also king of the pool. (Well, technically he shares that position with Leigh-Anne, because everybody needs the odd day off, but that's irrelevant. He's got the keys, so for now, he is king.) 

 

* * *

 It takes approximately two and a half hours for it all to go right to shit. 

For some reason, Louis figured that the Canada Day long weekend wouldn't have been that busy, because if you've got a cottage somewhere, you probably wouldn't be anywhere close to Toronto, but apparently, no one's taken that advice, and all the other outdoor pools in the city must be closed because the pool's at capacity and there's a line outside before two thirty. 

To make matters worse, one of his staff - the only one he hasn't worked with before, which makes him wish that he had some nominal control over hiring - has decided not to show up. All of his existing guards are on, and they're doing ninety minute rotations, which will get bad quickly. 

Louis collapses into a chair in the pool office. He stares out at his staff - Liam's fanning himself with his flutterboard, Zayn looks unflappable to the extreme (but there's Zayn for you, because there isn't a moment where Zayn looks the least bit bothered about anything), Niall is measuring a child against the dolphin poster by the waterslide to make sure that she's tall enough to ride down the slide (and possibly flirting with the child's nanny, for which Louis is going to have to nag them later), and Jade is trying to shepherd some four year old out of the deep end of the pool. Jesy is downstairs doing admittance, and Louis feels the worst for her, because she's the one who has to stare down the long line of people waiting to swim. At least she can do it in blissful air conditioning, while everyone else has to suffer outside. 

Cheryl, the community centre's manager, knocks on the door of the office. Louis beckons her inside. 

"Fucking hell," she says, looking back out at the pool. "It's a mess out there." 

"Be less of a mess if we weren't one short," Louis says. "I don't know who this Grimshaw guy is, but if I meet him, I will kick his ass, just for this." 

"I'll look the other way," Cheryl says, cracking a smile. "Here's the replacement list from that place over in Forest Hill. You might want to think about giving some of those staff a call, if you're striking out with the people on ours." 

"You are a goddess among managers," Louis says, smiling for the first time since noon, and blowing Cheryl a kiss. 

Cheryl shakes her head at Louis, and turns to leave. "Keep that up, Tommo, and you might have my job in a year's time." 

(It would be a five dollar pay raise over what he's making now. Louis wouldn't mind that one bit.) 

 

\----

 

He's down to the second-last person on that second replacement list, and he's not feeling particularly lucky, because this far down he's going to get some newbie guard who hasn't worked an easy shift, and certainly would not want to deal with this outdoor pool at full capacity, with screaming children and old men sunbathing in their banana hammocks everywhere. On the other hand, it might be someone who could step in and work that shift the whole summer, so that's a potential plus. 

"Alright, Harry Styles," Louis says as the phone rings, "let's hope you're up for something crazy today." 

A beach ball hits the pool office window, and Louis jumps and very nearly falls out of his chair. 

"Hello?" the voice on the other end of the line says. 

"Yeah, hi," Louis says, "I'm the pool manager at the outdoor pool at North Toronto Community Centre. I was wondering if you might be able to come in and work today? We're a guard short." 

"Hmm," Harry says. "I'll go ask my mom." 

Oh, Jesus. He's some random sixteen year old who lives at home and is connected to his parents by an invisible umbilical cord. Louis is going to have a good time with this one.  

"Yeah, that's fine," Harry says. "I think I did a course there a while back."

"Great," Louis says, and he probably sounded far too excited that this one random boy is coming to work with them. "When can you be here?" 

"Whenever the next bus along Eglinton comes along," Harry says. "Hopefully soon." 

"Alright, go sign in, and then come up to the pool so I can give you an orientation. Come soon, because all the staff haven't had a break in a long time, and they're either all going to die or kill me." 

"Let's hope neither of those happen," Harry says. "I'll see you in a little while." 

 

* * *

 

Harry is cute. 

Not like, the fuckable kind of cute, to be fair, but cute in the way that he's got big blue eyes and a mop of curly brown hair and is eighteen, but hasn't really started the transformation from teenager to grown man. That's probably a good thing, because otherwise, Louis would be all over him, and his swim shorts are way too tight to disguise a boner. (Sometimes, Louis surprises himself with how gay he is.) 

"How many people are in there?" Harry says, looking out over the pool in shock. 

"175, if the people who are doing admittance are any good at math," Louis replies. "Zayn isn't, so there could be a few more or a few less. We are at capacity right now." 

"Cool, " Harry replies. 

Louis takes him around and shows him where all the safety things are \- ring buoys, reaching pole, first aid kit, spinal board - and then sends him off to get changed. Louis stands out on the pool deck, watching chaos erupt. Zayn waves him over from where he's guarding in the deep end. 

"Who's the kid?" Zayn asks, looking down at Louis. 

"Eyes on the pool," Louis says, arms folded across his chest. "He's replacing the asshole who didn't show up today." 

"Language," Zayn says sarcastically. "Wouldn't want any of the kiddies talking like that." 

"Or their parents calling up Cheryl with complaints," Louis adds. 

"Anyways, I'm pretty sure that the kid was checking out your bum," Zayn says with a smile, "which, I mean, I'd probably check out too, because objectively, it's a pretty nice bum."

"He _was_ _not._ I always notice these things." 

"Looks like he's too subtle for the Tommo," Zayn laughs. "I swear he was. Ask anyone. Maybe not Liam, because he'd probably just quote something out of the employee handbook about fraternization and how that's totally not allowed, but ask anyone." 

"Right." Louis rubs his eyes. "Bit young for me, don't you think?" 

"If he's a lifeguard, he's legal," Zayn says with a shrug. "I would strongly encourage you to go for it. I mean, you've been having a bit of a dry spell lately, right?"

"How the fuck would you - "

"You get massively uptight when you aren't getting enough tail, Tommo." 

Okay, so maybe Louis hasn't been getting any for the last little while, because he and his boyfriend of about a year broke up (he really needs to stop dating guys who aren't out to their friends and family, because that's just uncomfortable for all involved), and he also lives with his mother after the rent on his apartment went up past what his student line of credit would allow him to pay. But that is none of Zayn's goddamn business, and this line of conversation is probably not appropriate to have with so many impressionable youngsters around, and also it would make it much harder for Louis to appreciate how nice Harry's arms are, now that he's not wearing a top with sleeves. 

"You're doing it too, now," Zayn says. "The checking-out thing, I mean." 

"Shut the fuck up." 

Harry gets close enough to the two of them that Louis has to at least pretend that the thought of hooking up with him didn't briefly cross his mind. His face flushes, because he needs to not be having these thoughts about someone he literally just met. 

"Harry," Louis says, "you're going to give Zayn a short off-deck break, okay? You know where to go when the next person rotates, right?" 

Harry nods. "Aye aye, captain." He gives Louis a quick salute. 

Zayn hops off the guard chair, and Harry climbs up. Zayn and Louis walk away, and when they're back inside the office, Zayn turns to Louis and says, "I wonder if he talks like that in bed." 

Louis is going to drown him before the summer is out, he's sure. 

 

* * *

 

Louis is the last one out that night, as he's supposed to be, and he is very surprised to notice Harry there, waiting for him. 

"I just wanted to say thanks," Harry says. "I'm pretty much unemployed this summer, and that wasn't half bad." 

"You're welcome, Harry," Louis replies, and starts to walk away. Harry quickly catches up to him. 

"Do you think there's a chance that I might be able to take that shift permanently? Like, if the guy who is supposed to be working it just never shows up?" 

Louis shrugs. "Maybe. You'd probably have to suck someone's dick, to be frank, because there are a lot of people who inexplicably want to be working here, but don't let that stop you from trying."

Louis is being sarcastic, and probably a bit forward, but Harry just nods. 

"Would yours be one of them?" 

Louis blushes from the tips of his ears to his toes. "No. I don't have any control over staffing. I just boss people around." 

"Too bad," Harry says, as they walk out the doors of the community centre. "Hopefully I'll see you again, Louis." He walks over to a minivan pulled up outside of the community centre. Louis watches him drive away. 

He spends the whole bus ride home trying to return his heart rate to normal. 

 

* * *

 

He and Leigh-Anne switch off every three days. However, his mom wants to get spend a few days up at his grandparents' house north of the city, so she covers a few days of work for him. He'll probably get called up for some weird favour later, but he doesn't mind. 

To his great surprise, one of the guards who shows up for his first day back is Harry. 

"I don't know how he did it," Liam says, as he helps Louis put the ring buoys back on their hooks before the pool opens (people will apparently steal everything and anything, which means that the ring buoys live inside overnight). "It clearly wasn't a seniority based hiring. He's on the bottom of every replacement list that he's on." 

Louis thinks back to the conversation that he and Harry had a few days prior, and almost bursts out laughing. Maybe the kid took his advice. In any event, it wasn't something that he would tell Liam, who was very easily shocked. 

"Is he a good guard?" Louis asks. 

"Yeah," Liam replies. "I mean, he's here, and that's a leg up on the other guy, right?" 

"True," Louis says. 

Liam goes to the bathroom when they finish putting away the ring buoys, which leaves a few minutes alone with Harry in the pool office. 

"So," Louis asks, sitting on the desk, "whose dick did you end up having to suck to get this job?" 

Harry shrugs. "It was actually easier than you said it would be. I just had to sweet-talk Cheryl and convince her that it was easier to just let me work here full-time instead of training someone else." 

"Pool orientations here literally take fifteen minutes." 

"It's fifteen minutes that we can now spend saving drowning people, Louis," Harry says, smiling sweetly. 

Louis laughs and shakes his head. "I bet you think you're pretty smart, don't you?" 

"I did graduate in the top ten percent of my high school class, so yeah," Harry says, "I do." 

"Well, lah-di-dah," Louis says. "Where you off to next year?" 

"U of T," Harry replies. "History. And then I expect several years of unemployment and poverty." 

Louis stares at him for a second, confused. 

"That's what everyone asks," Harry says. "First, it's _where are you going,_ and then it's _what are you studying,_ and then when they realize that it's a useless arts degree, they'll ask what you're planning on doing with it. I mean, I'll probably burn the actual paper diploma for heat when mine gets turned off, but that's a while off." 

"You could professionally lifeguard," Louis says. "It could work out for you." 

"Possibly." Harry shrugs. "And you, Mr. Tomlinson? What are you up to?" 

"I'm, uh, going into my last year of Con Ed at York," Louis says. 

"What are you going to teach?" 

"Music," Louis says. "High school music." 

"Oh, those hormonal adolescents," Harry says, and then his voice takes (if Louis isn't mistaken) a somewhat sultry tone. "If only my band teacher was so young and good-looking." 

"Are you two done?" Liam says, hands on his hips. He looks annoyed, but then again, Liam's default expression is annoyed, so. 

"Yeah," Louis says, nodding. He didn't realize that his hands were shaking, just a little, and then he quietly rues the day that he called Harry up for a guard replacement. 

"Good," Liam says, "because every time I try to hang out with Zayn, he's always after that girl at reception - Pattie? Perrie? - whatever her name is, and it makes me so uncomfortable to be around people who are flirting." 

_Oh shit._ He and Harry were flirting, at work, on paid time, and Louis didn't even notice. Well. 

Harry waggles his eyebrows at him, and man, that is a really ineffective way to get inside someone's pants, in Louis' opinion. 

"We'll tone it down a bit, Liam," Harry says, unflappable to the extreme, "Louis over here is just such a stud, I couldn't resist." 

Liam turns beet red, which is great because otherwise Louis would have just been super embarrassed by his own reaction instead of laughing at Liam. 

"Seriously," Louis says. "Harry's gonna shut it down now." Louis looks at Harry, daggers in his eyes, and Harry, the sarcastic little bastard, flashes him a thumbs up.

Liam comes back into the pool office carefully, as if he's there to defuse a bomb rather than eat his lunch, and sits down by Louis. Harry, ever the artful conversationalist, manages to change the subject quickly, and all awkwardness is (mostly) forgotten. 

 

* * *

 

**Zayn Malik:** hear u and the young'un were gettin steamy in the pool office today

 

**Louis Tomlinson:** fuck off 

 

**Louis Tomlinson:** also liam doesn't know wat flirting is so i wouldn't trust him 

 

**Zayn Malik:** u were definitely flirt

ing 

 

**Za** **yn Malik:** liam told me the whole convo 

 

**Zayn Malik:** go for it u loser 

 

**Louis Tomli nson: **shut up about this hes sitting beside me on the bus 

 

* * *

 

Louis' days off aren't really days off, because when he's not working for the City of Toronto, he lifeguards at the pool in the apartment building where he and his mom live. It's probably a little bit sketchy and under the table, but the landlord is too cheap to actually hire a proper company to come and do the work required to actually fix up and supervise the pool, so Louis makes do with the broken vacuum and the half-empty chemical testing kit, and for money that he expects is more to keep him quiet about the condition of the pool where he works. It's mostly rambunctious kids that come and swim during the day, and Louis will usually put a rope across the middle of the pool to stop them from going into the deep end and accidentally drowning. Swimming lessons and summer camp are two things that most of the parents in the building seem not to have considered for their kids. 

His landlord wants him there until nine, which is weird, because most of the small kids have cleared out by seven-thirty at the very latest. Louis doesn't mind, because it's at least ninety minutes of getting paid to read, which Louis doesn't mind at all. He had to put ASOIAF on hold during the academic year, and he's been itching to see what's been going on in Westeros. 

One night in late July, just as he suspects he's about to read the Red Wedding (which of course he's already watched on TV, because his mom's neighbour helped her steal HBO from someone else in the building) he looks up from the chair in the little shed that serves as his pool office, and there's Harry. 

"What the hell are you doing here?" Louis asks. He's a little surprised that Harry knows where he lives, but the boy is endlessly crafty and also has access to a list with all of his personal information, but he's not unhappy to see him. It's getting to the point where Louis is desperate enough to take things to the next level with Harry that he misses him on his days off. Also, this means that his landlord needs to put a lock that only residents can open on the pool door, but that's never going to happen in a million years, so Louis just decides to skip that conversation.

"Hello to you as well," Harry says, nudging Louis' legs off the end of the lounge chair. "You need to ask Zayn to be a little more careful with your personal information, I think." 

"Well, I think he's trying to get you in my pants, so I'm not sure that conversation would have any meaning for him," Louis says, sticking a bookmark in his book and putting it down beside him. 

"Well, I'm trying to get in your pants, so he's a helpful ally in that war," Harry says, leaning in a bit close. Louis is suddenly very tempted to thread his hands through those brown curls and kiss him so hard he shuts up, but Louis has some self-restraint. It's still kind of nice to know that Harry might be a little bit obsessed with him too. 

"Harry," Louis says, heart thumping in his chest, "you're a little young to be dating some 22 year old loser who still lives with his mother." 

"So?" Harry says. "If I didn't want to date you, I'd stop flirting with you when we can't make Liam feel awkward. I mean, you might be a terrible kisser, which could be an absolute deal-breaker for me. So, there's that." 

"You're trying to bait me into kissing you." 

"Damn, Lou, you've got me all figured out." 

"That actually wasn't bad," Louis says, laughing a little. He puts his arm around Harry's shoulder, not really thinking. "You've got more game than the average college boy, if that makes you feel better." His fingers curl around the top of Harry's arm, just where his t-shirt sleeve ends, and the warmth and softness of Harry's skin hits him like a freight train. 

"See, you're totally going to kiss me," Harry breathes, and suddenly his face is so close that Louis actually just might. This evening is going to end with Louis kissing Harry at some point. "You're molesting my upper arm. Totally a lead-in to kissing." 

"I bet you drove here in that stupid minivan," Louis says. 

"My dad won't let me take the nice car, so yes, I did come in the minivan," Harry says. "Is this relevant?" 

"Nah," says Louis, "but I can tease you about being the only teenage boy on the planet whose ride is a Honda Odyssey." 

Harry snorts. "You're such an asshole." 

"You love it." 

"I do, Louis. I do." 

He's gone from flirty to sweet and sincere, and somehow the moment feels perfect and right to lean in towards Harry. Their foreheads touch first, and it's slow and gentle and sweet up until the moment their lips meet, and Harry has super soft and kissable lips that Louis will need to be surgically torn away from at some point in the future. Louis rests his hand on Harry's cheek, gently drawing his thumb down along Harry's jaw, and gets a jolt of adrenaline when Harry moans softly into his mouth. 

Something brings him back to the fact that he's sitting in fairly clear view of an apartment building with tons of children in it, and that maybe, just maybe the whole kiss thing was a little steamy for those young eyes, but he isn't really ready to fully pull away from Harry quite yet, so he rests his forehead against his and closes his eyes. 

"You're not a shitty kisser," Harry sighs. "I'm so happy." 

"Shut up," Louis says, kissing the tip of his nose. "I have to test the chemicals in the pool now." 

Harry slides one hand up his thigh, and asks, mock-innocently, "Can't the chemicals wait, sweetie pie?" 

Louis has a hard time reconciling his dislike for the nickname and his desire to lock the chemical shed shut and suck Harry off until he's crying. 

"Please never call me that ever again," Louis says, and puts his hand on top of Harry's. "And Harry dear, we're not going to do that here." 

"Noted," Harry says, though Louis swears he can see a more mischievous glint than normal in Harry's eyes. Harry is the kind of person to take 'no' as 'challenge accepted', and Louis is all too willing to give in, which he foresees could cause a problem in the future. 

He teaches Harry how to test the pool chemicals, which are out of whack as per usual, and then winces when he tries to skip around the pool while adding his measuring cup full of chlorine. 

"You're going to give yourself a terrible chemical burn doing that," Louis yells from his lounge chair in the shed. 

"But it's so whimsical," Harry replies. 

"There's nothing whimsical about chlorine." 

They kiss twice more (and Louis is back in the headspace of counting every time he smooches Harry, which is juvenile and disgusting but also totally in keeping with how he is in those heady early days, or hours in this instance, of a relationship) - once while sitting on the couch, eating heated up leftovers and watching some terrible show about firefighters, and then again when Harry crowds Louis up against his stupid minivan just before he goes to leave for the night. 

"I'll see you tomorrow?" Harry says, breathless, after they break apart. 

Louis shakes his head. "It's Leigh-Anne again tomorrow. Next day." 

"Well, I'll be out here, then, after I'm done," Harry says. "I promise." 

 

* * *

 

Louis is not on duty for their one major incident of the summer, and from what he hears later, it's probably a good thing. 

A mother wasn't supervising her young son - and yes, technically, it's the lifeguard's job to supervise pool patrons but it makes everyone's lives easier when parents keep a close watch on their children - and wandered into water where he couldn't touch. The bather load was so high that no one found him until they did a pool clear and pulled him up out of the water, but despite Harry's and Jesy's and the paramedics' efforts, there was no saving the little boy, and he died in the hospital a few hours later. 

The pool was closed in the immediate aftermath of the interview, and Louis knows that there will also be inquests and investigations and potentially a court case in the aftermath of the incident, and the staff involved would be off work for several days, and Harry - his Harry, even though they've really only been a couple for a grand total of three weeks - will be caught in the middle of the whole thing. 

Louis takes the bus out to Harry's early that evening, after having begged the rest of the day off from his landlord. His mom opens the door. 

"Louis," she says beckoning him inside. "He's a mess. He got home about an hour ago, and he hasn't left his room."

"That's not surprising," Louis says, kicking off his shoes. "Can I go up and s

ee him?" 

She n

ods. "I think he'll need it." 

He quietly climbs the stairs and walks down to the end of the hallway. Anyone would struggle with having someone die on them suddenly like that, and Louis suspects that Harry's bravura in the face of all things only runs so deep. 

He gently opens the door to Harry's room, where Harry is curled up in bed, mostly covered up by the duvet. Louis doesn't really blame him, because his mom keeps the air conditioning turned up to Arctic levels at all times, but the way that he's tucked in on himself concerns Louis.

"Baby?" He says quietly, kneeling down beside the bed. 

The sheets shift as Harry rolls over to face him. "Is that you?" 

Louis nods. "Cuddle?" 

"Please." 

He slips into bed beside Harry, who buries his head in the crook of Louis' neck. They cling to each other desperately, and Harry starts to cry. 

"It's okay," Louis says. "Let it out. It'll feel better." He rubs a hand in soothing circles on Harry's back. 

"I can't get the kid's face out of my head," Harry whispers, and then sniffles. "And his mom was behind us, screaming and crying - Leigh-Anne couldn't make her move away, no matter what she did, but it's just - have you ever seen someone who dr

owned?" 

"No,"

Louis whispers. 

"He was just," Harry pauses, searching for the right word, "so empty. I knew the minute we pulled him out of the water he was gone, just gone, but we had to keep trying, because that's not a call we could make, and I don't want to have messed something up -" 

"Take a deep breath, baby," Louis says. "With me. Do some pursed-lip breathing." 

It feels funny using first aid techniques on someone he actually knows, but then Harry's breathing slows down, and a little of the tension leaves his body. 

"You didn't do anything wrong," Louis says. 

"You weren't there, Lou." 

"I know. But you always give your best on everything, and you literally get the daylights trained out of you when you start this job." He presses a kiss to the top of Harry's head. "I mean, it's not going to be easy dealing with the inquest and everything that's going to happen. But I have confidence that you didn't screw up." He wipes a tear off Harry's face with the pad of his thumb. 

Harry doesn't say anything, but just curls up tighter into Louis' side. 

"Have you had anything to eat since you got home?" 

Harry shakes his head. 

"Have you showered or anything?" 

Harry shakes his head again. 

"Okay," Louis says. "We're going to get you a bath, and then you're going to have some supper, and that might make you feel a little more human, okay?" 

Harry mumbles something close to 'okay' and disentangles himself from his duvet. Louis walks with him down the hall to the bathroom. Harry strips off his clothes, still a little self-conscious being naked in front of Louis. Louis turns on the tap, and grabs one of the scented bubble baths on the side of the tub before Harry gently taps him on the shoulder. 

"Gemma will kill you if you use that," he says quietly. 

"Noted," Louis replies. "No bubbles for us, then." 

"Us?" Harry asks. "You know my parents are home, right?" 

"We're not doing that sort of thing, Harry dear," Louis says. "And I won't go in unless you want me to." 

"Please," Harry says in a strangled whisper. Louis slips in the bath behind him, pressing his torso into Harry's back. Louis always feels a bit funny being the big spoon (metaphorically speaking), because Harry is just a shade taller than he is. Still, he hopes that he's comforting Harry like this. 

They sit without speaking until the bathwater gets tepid, and then Louis presses the bar of soap on the side of the tub into Harry's hand. 

"I'll do your hair, boo," Louis says. "That way, we can get out before we totally freeze." 

"Good idea." 

Of course, that turns out to be completely and totally useless, and Louis should have predicted that because Harry's scalp is super sensitive. (Louis also loves running his fingers through Harry's hair, so really, it's a win-win for everyone there.) Harry is shivery and limp in his arms the minute Louis gets his hands on his head, and he's done extensively mixing shampoo into Harry's hair, he kneads at his shoulders for a few minutes. 

Harry's eyes are closed and his head is resting back on Louis' shoulder. "D'ya need anything, babe?" Louis whispers in his ear. There's a telltale flush of arousal coming up Harry's neck and onto his cheeks, and really, Louis should have predicted this.

"Can I... can I have your hand?" The request is made quietly. Harry's voice cracks at the end, and when Louis gently splays his hand on his stomach, he flinches and moans. 

"Anything for my baby boy," Louis whispers. "You tell me if you want to stop, okay?" 

That's Louis' get out of jail free card, and probably his entirely ineffective way of dealing with his hangups about Harry's relative youth. Harry almost never says no, but Louis would rather not get caught off guard the one day that he does. 

He wraps one hand around Harry's cock, making Harry jolt, and rubs soothing circles with the other on Harry's torso. Harry's half-hard already, and Louis knows it won't be long before he comes, so he keeps up the pressure with even, steady strokes. Harry keens, trying to keep quiet (because his mom loves Louis and is pretty okay with their relationship, but he's not so sure whether she'd appreciate walking into the bathroom and seeing him jerking off her only son), but is kind of failing, and Louis hopes and prays that if anyone hears, they have the good manners never to say so.

Louis speeds up his hand a little bit, can sense the tension in Harry's body that winds up just before he comes, and drops a kiss to the side of his neck. "So good for me, baby," Louis whispers. "So, so good." His own arousal clouds his brain a little, but he focuses on Harry, because right now Harry is the one who needs love and attention. He tries to think about trigonometry formulas from high school to calm himself down. 

Harry gasps and cries out a little as he comes, spilling into the bathwater. Louis grabs Harry's shower gel off the side of the tub and cleans him off gently, whispering sweet nothings into his ear. Harry is particularly hazy and light after he comes, so Louis has to manhandle him out of the tub and back to his bedroom for some clean clothes. 

He tucks a stray curl behind Harry's ear just before they go downstairs, and Harry smiles at him dreamily, not fully down from his high. 

"Bit better?" Louis asks. 

Harry nods, and takes Louis' hand. 

 

* * *

 

Harry doesn't work for the rest of the summer because of the inquest into the incident at the pool. Nothing really comes of it, which surprises Louis, who remembers his first boss telling him about the damages that can come from lawsuits against municipalities in drowning cases. However, this family seems to be more preoccupied with moving past the whole thing, so there's no additional legal battles to navigate. He desperately misses working with Harry, though, so he uses what negligible pull he has with Cheryl to get the two of them on a shift together for the fall. 

"Thought you didn't have any pull over staffing," Harry said, when Louis called him to tell him the good news that evening. 

"I just didn't realise that I did," Louis replies. 

Harry sometimes comes to the pool as a patron on the days that Louis works, which is both awesome and distracting. Liam gets huffy sometimes, because he claims that Louis and Harry are violating some kind of policy by being together at work, but Harry only exists to Louis when he's on his breaks, so he kind of tells Liam to fuck off (without actually doing so). 

Still, work is fun, and outside of work is Harry, and Louis doesn't even get to feel wistful about the fact that summer's almost over until Labour Day, when he uses the pool keys to get him and Harry in to the pool in his apartment building. There's a fireworks show in a park nearby, which he and Harry can see from where they sit on the pool deck, enjoying a couple of beers. Harry's only six months off being legal, so Louis doesn't feel bad supplying him with alcohol. He could get arrested or something, but whatever.

They sit on the side of the pool, legs in the water, watching fireworks pop overhead. Harry keeps gently tracing his hand up and down Louis' thigh, which is probably a signal for something, but Louis is perfectly content to sit with his arm around Harry's shoulders and enjoy the lovely evening. (Then, of course, they'll head back up to his apartment and fuck until the sun comes up, but none of that will happen while they're sitting here, enjoying the last night of summer.) 

Harry leans in to Louis and whispers, "We're going to do that thing I've been asking about tonight, right?" 

Louis nods. "Not right here, but yeah, we'll get to it." 

"Shame," Harry says, "because I had dreams about us doing it in that little shed." 

"That would be so uncomfortable." 

"How would you know that, Louis?" 

"I'm assuming. However," Louis says, "I do get to hold on to the pool keys through the year. Don't give up hope, Harry dear." 

Harry shakes his head and stands up. He pulls off his shorts. 

"What the hell are you doing?" Louis asks. 

"Well," he says, pausing briefly to pull his shirt up and over his head, "I haven't actually ever been in this pool before. Now, I'm looking to change that." 

He walks around to the ladder and climbs in. Louis watches appreciatively, because Harry is one of those people who goes to the gym for fun, and it definitely shows. No harm in engaging in a little bit of male objectification once in a while. 

"Jesus," Harry says sharply, slipping in to the water. "It's fucking cold in here." 

"I don't control the water temperature," Louis says, smirking at him. He takes another sip of his beer. 

Harry swims the length of the pool, and then doggy paddles his way over to Louis. He stands between Louis' legs, and he leans in to kiss him. 

"It's not so bad once you're in," Harry says, grinning. 

"Not in the mood for a swim tonight," Louis replies. "I'll make sure you don't drown, though." 

"Appreciate it," Harry says, and then hooks his fingers in the belt loops on Louis' shorts. He gives them a gentle tug downwards. "Stick your legs out, or these are going to get wet, and we wouldn't want that." 

"Harry, what are you doing?" 

"Something nice," Harry says. "Close your eyes and relax." 

Louis knows that he shouldn't, but this is the last night of summer, and they're practically primed to do something stupid. "We are so fucked if we get caught." 

"Well, I'm planning to get fucked tonight anyways, so hopefully that will all work out," Harry says, pulling off Louis' boxer shorts. "Close your eyes, stupid." 

He obliges. Louis strongly suspects that he knows what Harry's about to do, and he feels the colour rise in his cheeks. 

In Louis' mind, there is no such thing as a bad blowjob, because someone is willing to put their mouth on your dick, and you can't really lose there. Harry is enthusiastic, if somewhat lacking in technique, all warm, wet heat, and there aren't any teeth involved, so he's sure doing a lot better than Louis did the first time he gave someone head. Louis briefly ignores Harry's edict to keep his eyes shut, just so he can see how pretty Harry looks with his mouth on his dick, because that's really all that matters to Louis ever. He threads his fingers through Harry's hair and tugs lightly, which makes him moan around Louis' dick. 

Louis groans. "Oh, baby, you look so good taking my dick like that." 

Harry pulls off briefly, but keeps jacking Louis off. "Love doing this for you, Daddy." 

The whole 'Daddy' thing is something new for him and Harry - Harry figured if Louis got to keep calling him baby, he got to call Louis something. Wrong as it could possibly be, it does send a zing of pleasure down Louis' spine every time Harry says it. 

"Gonna swallow you down," Harry says, looking up at Louis, lips pink and full. "Like a good boy." His pupils are blown out fantastically wide, which Louis takes as a sign that this is getting him off as much as it's getting Louis off. It's gonna be a good night, Louis thinks. 

"You don't have to, baby," Louis says, but time's running a bit short, and Harry's going to have to make that call pretty soon. He takes a book out of Louis' blowjob playbook (the little rascal) and reaches back behind Louis' balls to press against the sensitive skin there, and Louis is gone, coming in ribbons down the back of Harry's throat. Harry pulls off and slumps against the wall, breathing like he'd just run a marathon. 

"That was so amazing," Louis says, when he's got his words back. "I - fuck, Harry. Thank you." 

"No problem," Harry replies, climbing out of the water. He's soaked to the skin, and he looks so beautiful that Louis pulls him in for a kiss before he goes to get his clothes. 

"Get dressed," Louis yells. "We're going to head upstairs." 

"Brilliant." 

Louis locks up the pool, and he and Harry head back into the building. They hold hands in the elevator, grinning madly. As the elevator doors slide shut, Harry wraps his arms around Louis' waist and kisses his temple. 

"Love you a lot, you know?" He says, eyes shining. Louis could almost cry. 

The tone of the evening changes somewhat when they get back up to the apartment. Louis leads Harry back to his bedroom, and Harry sits down on the bed, hands folded in his lap. Louis sits down beside him. 

"You good?" He asks. 

"Yeah," Harry says. "I think so. I'm a little nervous." 

"We don't have to do anything that's going to make you uncomfortable," Louis says, reaching out and putting a hand on Harry's shoulder. "We've got all the time we need, love." 

"No," Harry says, "I want this. I'm just... did you feel this way before your first time with another guy?" 

Louis nods. He remembers it fairly well - the vulnerability, the slight pain that melted away into pleasure as time went on, and the shaky kernel of nervousness that twisted in his stomach the whole time. He doesn't want that last bit for Harry, because he deserves the very best in all things. 

"Yeah," Louis says. "It gets better, trust me." 

Harry nods, and leans in for a kiss. It's nice, making out lazily like this, because he can feel the tension dissipate a little from Harry's body. He slips one hand under Harry's t-shirt, runs his hands over the soft skin and feels the muscle twitching just under the surface. "Off with this," he says, helping Harry pull the shirt up and over his head. 

"You too," Harry breathes, and Louis pulls off his shirt. 

Eventually, it's just them, rutting up against each other on Louis' bed. Louis gets a couple of quick pulls in on Harry's dick, causing Harry to moan into Louis' mouth. 

"All good?" Louis asks, rolling off Harry. 

"Bit sensitive still," Harry says, breathlessly. "I, uh, came while I was sucking you off." 

Louis can't decide whether he wants to laugh or kiss Harry, so he does both. Ah, he's so gloriously eighteen sometimes. 

"I'm sorry," he says sheepishly. "I just really like giving head." 

"No shit," Louis laughs. "Give me a sec, Haz. I just have to grab a couple of things." 

He slips off the bed, and digs through his sock drawer. He hides his lube and condoms under an terrifically itchy pair of socks his aunt knit him one Christmas out of a teenage sense of shame. He's pretty sure that his mom knows that he's having sex, so he doesn't know why he bothers with it anymore. Habit, probably. 

He puts a couple of condoms on his nightstand, and props his pillows up against the headboard of his bed. 

"Lie back," he says to Harry, "and knees up. Legs open, too." 

Harry obliges. "I feel like I'm at the doctor's, or something like that." 

"This is a lot better, I promise," Louis says. He squirts a bit of lube into his palm, and warms it up between his hands. 

"Okay," he says, taking a deep breath and settling between Harry's open legs. "You ever fingered yourself?" 

Harry shakes his head. 

"That's fine," Louis says. "Angle's a bit weird. This is going to feel strange, and possibly a little cold, okay?" 

"Okay," Harry says. 

Louis keeps a close eye on Harry's face as he slips his first finger in. It's all tight heat, which makes his dick twitch, but he keeps his focus on prepping Harry as best he can. He lets him settle for a bit once he's got the one finger in all the way to the knuckle. 

"How's that?" He asks. 

Harry takes a deep breath. "It's good. A little funny, like you said." 

"Cool," Louis says, "that's good. Okay, let me know when I'm there, babe." 

He curls his finger inside of Harry carefully, trying to find his prostate. He slips his finger out, just a little bit, and curls his finger, and Harry gasps. 

"Perfect," Louis says. "That alright?" 

"Fuck," Harry breathes. "Also, is your mom here tonight?" 

Louis shakes his head. "She's at her boyfriend's place." 

"So I can be as loud as I want, eh?" 

"I do have neighbours, Harry." 

Harry shrugs. 

"Can I do two now?" Louis asks. 

Harry nods. "Come on, you're not that big. You don't need to prep me this much." 

"Believe me," Louis says. "You'll want this. And it'll still be a little tight." He slicks up his two fingers, and lines them up with Harry's entrance. 

Two is a tighter fit, and Harry's face screws up a little. The hand that's resting on his stomach travels down to his dick, and wraps loosely around it.

"Still good?" Louis asks, scissoring his fingers a little. 

Harry's mouth drops open as Louis brushes against his prostate. "Yeah," he pants. 

Louis leans over and kisses him then, a light peck on the lips, just to see if he can help the tension melt away from Harry's body a little. Harry's back arches and he makes long, guttural moan as Louis curls his finger hard against his prostate. 

"Gonna do one more, okay?" Louis says. He waits for Harry's nod, and then puts a third finger inside of him, stretching Harry open even further. 

Three fingers seems to completely wreck Harry, and he lets go in a way that he hadn't all evening. His back arches and he grinds himself against Louis, just using his fingers to get himself off as best he can, and his moaning and groaning reaches a fever pitch (Louis makes a mental note to bake something for his neighbours as an apology at some point). It's beautiful watching Harry let go of himself like this, and Louis makes a mental note to finger him until he comes one day, just so he can have Harry like this again. 

"Lou," Harry pants, "I need..."

He trails off, but Louis gets the idea, and pulls his fingers out. He carefully rolls on a condom (the unsexiest part of sex, he thinks), and slicks himself up before lining up with Harry's hole. 

"Christ," Harry breathes, red-faced and fucked out, "I thought you were never going to get in me." 

"Fuck off," Louis breathes, and uses his hand to grip the base of his cock as he guides himself inside Harry.

"Fuck me," Harry replies, and his mouth drops open in a perfect O when Louis pushes inside of him. 

"Good?" Louis manages through gritted teeth. 

Harry says nothing, but moans, high and broken, and rolls his hips against Louis. He takes that as a yes, and starts thrusting his hips, slowly at first. 

"Feels weird," Harry pants, as Louis adjusts the angle slightly. "Good weird." 

Louis kisses Harry, their bodies pressed together and slick with sweat. Harry bends his legs further back, allows Louis to push in deeper, and wraps his arms around Louis, keeping him close. When Louis finds the angle that hits Harry's prostate, Harry digs his nails so tight into Louis' shoulders that he swears he'll have angry red marks for days and days. (Fortunately, he has no objection to angry red marks.) Harry is beyond words now, can only pant and groan and moan, and makes desperate little noises whenever Louis drops kisses on his nose or his cheeks. He doesn't warn Louis when he comes - just yelps, and comes untouched between the two of them. Louis doesn't hold out much longer, going a few more strokes before joins Harry, and slouches on top of him after his orgasm winds down. 

They're messy and sticky and both covered in come and lube, and at some point they're going to have to roll out of bed, get a shower, and probably change the sheets on the bed, but all Louis has the wherewithal to do is pull out of Harry and scoot over to the garbage to dispose of the condom. As soon as he's back into bed, Harry reaches out for him, and wraps his arms around Louis, pulling him flush against him. Louis pulls the duvet overtop of the both of them, and melts into Harry. 

"Need to be close," Harry says quietly, and Louis nods. 

"So good," he says quietly. "So good with you, baby." 

(Harry falls asleep in less than five minutes.) 

 

* * *

 

Through some miraculous staffing coincidence (or Louis bribing Cheryl with M&Ms, no one will ever know), he and Harry end up working together indoors in the fall. Just before Harry goes out of the office to watch the legions of children who show up for leisure swim, he pinches Louis' bum and gives him a wink. 

Liam, who is sitting in the office, gives them both the stink-eye. 

Louis doesn't really care. 

 

_fin_

 


End file.
